Summer Flame
by Senashenta
Summary: Companion Remy and his Chosen, Nat Louvain, are stationed along the Karsite border for Demon-watch, shortly before the Tedrel Wars. It's a dangerous job, and this time they won't be able to walk away in the end.


**Disclaimer:** Valdemar and concepts belong to Mercedes Lackey. This fic and Original Characters belong to their author.

**Notes:** Well, this was… depressing. This is the first time I've ever written something that made _me_ cry. *sniffles* I was practically sobbing the entire time I was writing the last little bit.

Note to self: tragedy isn't as fun to write as you may think…

**SUMMER FLAME  
By Senashenta**

He was afraid.

In fact, he was knee-shaking, cold sweat in the middle of the night, run for the hills screaming _terrified_. But he couldn't let it show—for Nat's sake, he had to be strong. If the Firestarter knew how frightened he was, his own fear might creep in—and Nat was too desperately needed right now for him to give in to emotions.

"Do you see anything?"

Remy shook his head. _:No, but it's dark as hell…:_

Nat gave a contemplating noise. "That's why we're here. I could start up a camp fire, but if it's any lighter than this _they_ won't come near."

And that was the whole reason behind them being where they were, after all. Their time and effort would be wasted if a fire was lit, or if they moved, or if they made any noise above a whisper. Remy's heart was pounding in his chest, slamming against his ribcage as loudly as a mason's hammer, and he was sure that it was audible from a mile away.

He wondered if Karsite Demons could smell fear.

"Three hours until sunrise." Nat announced softly.

Remy hesitantly suggested; _:maybe they won't come tonight?:_

He hoped beyond hope that he was right, but didn't actually expect to be. They _always_ came—every single night—and it was always the same. Blood and flame, shrieking in the darkness, the hatred in Natsu's eyes as he struck down the abominations sent over the borders by Karsite Priests.

It had been two long months since the first appearance of the Demons they were now awaiting—two months since the Karsites had crossed the line and sent their shadowed minions to slaughter Valdemar's innocents. And now Remy and Nat were assigned their own section of the border, where they waited in darkness for the howling of the Demons.

And when they heard them at last, screaming unfounded rage into the night, they would set out to find them and strike them down—and Remy didn't like it at all. It wasn't that he didn't agree the Demons had to be killed. If they weren't, more and more of the civilians who dwelled in the border towns would be lost to them.

But when they set against the monsters, the raw loathing displayed by his Chosen made him wish they could go back to the way things had been before rumors of the Tedrel army had been confirmed. Even back to before they had begun spreading to begin with… Nat hadn't _hated_ then. He hadn't carried the burden he now did. He had been happy and healthy, and most definitely whole in both the physical and mental sense.

Remy wasn't so sure about the boy anymore—he was scarred and bruised, and he had _changed_. He wasn't the same Nat that Remy had Chosen four years prior, and he was certainly too young to be sent to war. Not that the King had many options; their resources were already spread thinly, and Nat's Gift was needed.

But the Companion could only wonder if his Chosen would be able to walk away from the upcoming War whole and stable… or, for that matter, if he could walk away from his current assignment and still be completely _human_.

He was only seventeen. He had never loved—never lost—never had the chance to become the person he was meant to be.

Remy didn't regret his Choice. There was no way he could ever want to take back the words that had bound him to the young Firestarter so long ago. But he almost thought Nat would have been better off without him. _Almost_…

Would he have grown up normally? Perhaps been a farmer? An innkeeper? Would he have found someone to fall in love with, and started a family?

In truth, he felt guilty; he wasn't the only Companion to have ever felt that way, but it didn't happen often. Though he supposed that guilt was more common among the equine community during wartime.

"Should be here any time." Nat muttered half to himself, "…always come. Always."

_:I'll ask Karsten if he and Thane have heard anything yet.:_ Remy offered, and then reached his mind toward the other stallion, who was stationed a league down the Border, along with his Chosen. Thane was a Firestarter, the same as Nat. All those assigned to the Border for Demon-watch were Firestarters. _:Kar… anything yet?:_

Karsten's voice was dark. _:Not yet… we haven't heard _anything_. Not so much as a cricket or a mocker-bird, Remy, and we both know that's not normal. There's something out there, we just can't see it.:_

_:Or hear it.:_ Remy agreed, and his heart was hammering once more. Hesitating, he made sure to Shield his next words from Nat. _:Kar, do you… ever regret Choosing Thane? I mean… not _Choosing _her, but dragging her into this… making her a Herald… getting her involved in the War.:_

There was a momentary pause, and Karsten sounded sad when he finally responded. _:I do, yes. Thane doesn't deserve to be subjected to these Demon hunts. She deserves more. She deserves a _life_, as does your Natsu.:_

Remy sensed a "but" coming.

_:But,:_ Karsten continued, _:it wasn't us that started this war. It's the Karsites who are breeding hatred across the border, and it's the Karsites who hired the Tedrels, not us. You know as well as I that Sendar wouldn't send us into battle unless he had no choice—:_

_:And if we do nothing, Valdemar will be taken by the Tedrels and quite possibly turned over to the Karsites.:_ Remy finished for him. _:I know.:_

Karsten's mindvoice echoed with sadness. _:So do I, Remy. So do I.:_

He knew what Karsten was saying—he saw the same changes in Thane as were occurring in Nat. Her heart was filling with hate, directed toward Karse and its inhabitants, and there was little he could do to stop it. The problem being that both of them—Remy and Karsten—were having enough trouble keeping hatred from breeding inside themselves, never mind steering their respective Chosen away from that track.

Remy had to admit, he didn't really blame Nat for feeling the way he did; the Sunpriests and Priestesses were giving them just cause to wish their demise. But hate wasn't an emotion that Companions liked to harbor, and they avoided it if they possibly could. He didn't like it, but he was almost to the point of not being unhappy if every one of the Sun's Priests and Priestesses were to be struck down from above…

A sound in the blackness of the forest cut his thoughts short, and his ears snapped forward as he peered into the dark ahead of them. Nat's fingers were twitching restlessly, and he was attempting to focus his eyes—but there was no light at all, and neither of them could find their quarry among the shadows.

"Here we go." Nat whispered.

The boy's face betrayed nothing, but Remy could feel that he was afraid; the fear resonated down the Herald-Companion Bond they shared, icy and shocking. But it was comforting, yes, to know that he was still human enough to feel it, even if it wasn't a good time for that particular emotion.

Something moved in the dark, just a shuffle of leaves and a heavy foot stepping down into the grass.

It was enough—_more_ than enough.

His ears went back, flattening against his skull, and he shivered, his tail shifting nervously. Next to him, Nat rose from his crouching position. His hands clenched into fists and then unclenched, and Remy could tell he was readying his Firestarting—Nat's way of working with his Gift was unique among Valdemar's current Firestarters in that he used his hands equally with his mind; the boy had taught himself to manipulate the flame, as well as creating it.

_Screee!_

Something came toward them, streaking through the night with terrifying grace and speed—

"I don't think so." Nat's voice was flat and calm, and a spark light in the night.

That was his cue. Ignoring his Chosen's hand motions, the stallion planted his hooves firmly in the dirt and began feeding energy from himself to Nat—upon the initial influx of power, the first flame blazed to life.

And the wild hate that Remy so wished wouldn't show in his eyes grew as the fire that had appeared in his cupped hands roared into an inferno. How he held the flame without burning himself, no one really knew…

The Demon was a short few meters away when Nat flexed his fingers around the result of his Gift and then hauled back and _threw_ the flame toward it.

The fireballs—two of them—collided head-on with the creature and exploded, showering sparks and making it scream into the dark. The sparks began to ignite nearby brush, but there was nothing they could do about it until the Demon was dealt with.

It was a particularly nasty looking one, from what they had glimpsed when the light of the fire illuminated it, even if it was only briefly; a set of sharp and dangerously pointed teeth snarled and flashed from a vaguely canine mouth, surrounded by spikes of greasy, metallic-looking hair—or fur—and the Demon's feral, beady eyes glowed red ever-so-slightly.

_:Gods.:_

Nat didn't respond to Remy's gasped oath, his own eyes pinned on the Demon in front of them as another fire began to simmer in his hands.

Before he could use the new ammunition he was developing, though, it screamed again—_screee!_—and leapt forward.

Remy's heart went to this throat, and for a terrifying second he thought it would reach Nat before either he or the boy could do anything to defend him—

—but even as it was flying toward them, Nat's eyes narrowed dangerously and a spike of fire roared to life, cutting the Demon's attack short. It _shrieked_, a raw howl as the heat of the forced blaze burned its hair away to almost nothing and made its skin blister and crack—

"Burn." The boy next to him muttered harshly, "burn and die."

_Havens, Nat…_

The creature had been reduced to a sizzling heap in seconds, and the stallion knew it was because of Nat's anger. It fueled the flame, driving it on and making it grow hotter and hotter… and as a result the Demon would be burnt to ash, as would much of the surrounding brush.

_Screee! Screee!_

Surprised, Remy danced in place for a second, having to resist the urge to rear, _:Nat, to the right!: _

Two of them this time, and another was converging from the left; they had never had to deal with three at once before, and certainly not after already destroying one. The Sunpriests were busy tonight.

Fighting his own terror, the Companion continued to funnel energy to Nat, but the boy was already fading. His Gift was strong, yes, and dangerous. But it took a lot of mental power to manipulate the flame, and Remy only had so much to give—even Companions had limits, though they didn't like to admit it.

The first of the Demons was met by a wall of fire, which sprung from the ground and seared into its flesh. It screamed, but unlike its predecessor, it didn't go down. Instead, it stumbled, snarling, and kept coming—and the other two simply went _around_ the initial blaze.

"You want it that way?" Nat growled, "_fine_."

Holding his hands in front of him, he made a sharp gesture and narrowed his eyes—and between his hands, a light flickered and then burst open, a flower of fire that danced in front of him.

_Blue flame_, Remy marveled. It was the first time Nat's fire had been that color…

The blue fire was potent, he learned a moment later, when Nat hurled the flickering ball toward the nearest of the Demons.

It didn't stand a chance, and as the fire crashed into its snout, it screamed once and then crumpled to the forest floor. The sapphire burned bright, engulfing the creature's corpse and devouring it hungrily—within seconds it was gone, leaving nothing but dust in its wake—

—but their comrade's demise did nothing to dissuade the others. They simply paused, glowing eyes watching with frightening intelligence as it burned. They were _thinking_, Remy knew, and working things out. Possibly, they were even coming up with a plan of some sort.

A fleeting thought—_what do the Karsites make these out of, anyway?_

Certainly they were smart. In fact they boasted almost human intelligence underneath their feral and eternally angry glares. The idea made him shiver. Could the Sunpriests have used humans to create the abominations that were now watching them warily, trying to decide what to do? Could they have sunk so low as to use _their own people_ as spell components? Or had they simply conjured up the devils at the cost of their own souls?

_Screee!_

"Remy!"

The new creature had come out of nowhere, seemingly materializing from the shadows. It had probably circled around while they were distracted by the frontal attack—and now, alerted first by the Demon's scream and then by Nat's, Remy skittered back a step just in time.

Claws rakes his chest, leaving deep furrows in his flesh, and he uttered a pain-filled shriek. It hurt. By the Gods, did it hurt. Blood flowed from the wounds, running down his front legs and spilling into the grass at his feet. But he was alive, and if it hadn't been for Nat's warning—

_:Nat!:_

He had stumbled back away from the Demon, but there was nowhere for him to run, and with it so close to him he seemed to have frozen. His eyes were wide as he scrambled back, the Demon licking at his heels as he moved, closing in for the kill as its pack-mates watched hungrily.

_:You—Get—Away—From—Him!:_ Injuries forgotten, Remy reared, his voice raising into a second shriek, and brought his hooves down: they slammed into the ground an inch from the creature, which twisted out of the way like a weasel and spun back to snap at him, teeth flashing. _:Nat, get out of here!:_

He shook his head, and Remy felt a momentary flash of annoyance. It was gone quickly, though, as his attention turned to the beast in front of him—it lunged, and he barely managed to throw himself to the side in time.

_Fast._

Whirling, he kicked—

—and his hooves connected with skin and bone, throwing the Demon away from he and his Chosen.

_I'm fast too._

The others were moving again, having decided their waiting game was over. The one that had been flung away slammed into a tree and rebounded. It stood for a moment, shaking its head as if dazed, and then managed to shake off the result of its impact and rejoined the pack.

Head down, Remy snorted—a warning to them—and then backed toward Nat, who was making frantic hand gestures and trying desperately to dredge up enough energy to use his Gift again.

"Remy…!"

The Companion stopped in front of him, shielding the boy with his own body, and shook his head slowly. Blood continued to flow from his chest, and he was starting to feel light-headed. _:I've got nothing, Nat… I'm sorry, I've got nothing left…:_

"That's what I was afraid of."

In front of them, the Demons crept forward.

With a final burst of power, Nat's eyes blazed and a spike of flame jutted from the ground in front of the creatures, making them scramble back. It died quickly, though, and they regrouped just as fast.

He knew. Remy could tell, without so much as a glace at Nat, that his Chosen had nothing left either. He himself was losing blood too quickly… and there were no Healers nearby.

_We've never had to deal with so many before._ The stallion thought vaguely, _usually only one or two… not five at once… we can't possibly get them all. Not before _they _get _us…

The front most Demon decided the time of hesitation was over, and pounced suddenly, catching Remy off guard. Surprised by the blur of movement, the Companion didn't have time to rear before it was upon him, tearing into his back—

—PAIN!—

"_Remy!_"

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be different… he was supposed to Choose Nat, and then they were supposed to live out their lives happily. He was supposed to find a mate, Nat was supposed to fall in love… they were both supposed to live until they were old men, weathered and wise…

Spinning, he slammed himself into the nearest tree and _twisted_, throwing the Demon off—he was on it before it could recover, and his hooves connected with its skull, pounding it into mush with a single blow. Then he was off again, skidding to a stop in front of his Chosen to bare his teeth at the remaining three Demons.

His back was mangled, shredded by fangs that were far sharper than a _kyree_'s. Skin hung in shreds, and blood gushed from the wounds to pool beneath him; his legs were shaking and his breathing was labored.

Behind him, Nat was gasping, on the verge of tears.

_:Go, Natsu.:_ He rasped, as much as mindvoice _could_. _:Before it's too late.:_

The boy shook his head violently, "but, you—"

_Screee!_

The other Demons had decided the time had come to finish it.

The first of the three was met by hooves, as Remy lashed out and—by a remarkable stroke of luck—managed to connect on the first try. It was dead before its body crashed into the bushes, beyond where either the Companion or the boy could see. The second and third paused, then circled around, each with a different direction, and there was no way for Remy to defend both flanks at once.

_:Remy—!:_

_:Kar…:_ he barely recognized the voice at all, _:it's too late, Kar…:_

_:What's happening, Remy? We heard—:_

_: I won't make it.:_ The fact was stated flatly, but then his mindvoice broke on the plea that followed; _:Kar… you and Thane… help me… please, help me protect Nat. I can't do it alone… he doesn't deserve to die…:_

_:Neither do you!:_

_:Kar, please…:_

The urgency he projected hit the other stallion like a brick wall, and he agreed, his own voice colored with grief, _:we—we'll do what we can, Remy, but—:_ a pause, and Karsten wavered, then a wave of psychic energy pulsed along the temporary link he had established between them. _:Remy, you—:_

Shields slammed up, blocking the rest of what Karsten had been about to say. Tears were spilling from Nat's eyes now, but Remy ignored them. His mane hung in a bloody tangle, and his knees were about to buckle. The pool of blood beneath him was growing wider by the second.

_:Nat.:_

His voice broke, "Remy—"

And the Companion shoved the energy he had received from Karsten toward his Chosen, flooding the boy with a temporary power that made him gasp, even as the remaining Demons crouched and pounced—

Remy spun again, kicking savagely, but missed his target and it crashed into his side, throwing him off his feet and then landing beside him, already digging it's teeth into his hide—he struggled, kicking and forcing the creature to fall back, and somehow managed to roll back to his feet in time to see—

The other Demon's leap ended next to Nat, and it swung a misshapen paw, catching the boy's chest and side, and spinning him back. His back hit a tree and he slumped down to the ground.

He had no strength left to even scream, and his back hung in tatters, but somehow Remy managed to drag himself over and step between his Chosen and the claws as the Demons both leapt—

—and fire, blue and hot as the sun, burst into existence around the Trainee and his Soul-Brother, surrounding them and shielding them from the attacks—and the Demons shrieked and writhed, and burnt to ash in seconds.

The flame sputtered and died, and Remy turned to Nat—

His uniform was ripped and soaked in red, and one arm hung limply at his side. Weakly, the Companion craned his neck and nosed the boy's cheek—and pain-filled eyes raised enough for brown to clash with blue.

"Sorry."

_:Why… I'm the one who's sorry.:_ A sarcastic snort. _:I should never have Chosen you.:_

"Don't say that." Despite the agony he was in, Nat managed to smile. "I'm glad I knew you…"

_:You deserved better.:_

"No…" his head drooped, chin coming to rest against his chest, and his eyes fluttered closed. For a moment, Nat's lips continued to move soundlessly, speaking to Remy even though he had no strength left, and then even that tiny motion stopped…

_:Nat…:_ his mindvoice hoarse, Remy nudged his Chosen again. _:Nat, come on…:_

But the void inside his own soul told him what he already knew.

He couldn't cry, but his heart broke on the emptiness that was left where there had been love—a low keening sound escaped from his throat, and he sagged to the ground from a combination of grief and blood loss; around them, the Karsite Demons were dead, but the cost of killing them…

His head came to rest on Nat's lap, and his eyes shut as the last of his life ebbed away.

_I'm sorry Nat… you deserved more. We'll meet again in your next life, Chosen… in your next life._


End file.
